The hunt
by Manic-Mania
Summary: A thing about psychopaths, they like to hunt. But what happens when the Jester gets his tables turned on him? What happens when the big bad wolf sets their sights on our sweet Cicero...? I do not own any of the characters. The first couple of chapters kind of rehash the adventures and Quests with Cicero. But I ended up derailing the story by chapter three. A bit in chpt. 2, as well
1. I hate Jesters

It was quite a while before poor Cicero heard from Astrid about her sanctuary... The base, from what Cicero has heard, has no listener. How can they get contracts with no listener, he thinks. He wonders. They couldn't be faking, could they? Oh, no no no! Never! Sacrilege! That would be ridiculous, now wouldn't it... hahahaha...haha...

"Thump rattle crash" the wheel jerks and snaps.

"Oh, curse this damnable wheel!" Cicero dismounts and kicks the blasted thing. "Oh mother, what should we do...?" he listens closely. Nothing, always nothing... So much silence... So much... maddening... silence... "Ahahaha! Oh yes! Ohhh there's a farm just over there! I'll ask them, I'll ask them! Ooooh hoho!" he jumps up and down excitedly, rushing to the farm.

Needless to say, the farmer wasn't so... friendly to poor Cicero... He sent him away with many an unkind word... Many respond this way to Cicero. Not many see he is a sweet jester, a kind jester... He only wants to get mother some place safe...

As he kicked pebbles on the road, and tried to fix the wheel and cursed and rambled, he didn't see a traveler coming down the road.

"Problem?" A feminine voice says behind from behind poor Cicero. Husky, sounds almost condescending. How rude!

Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth though. "Poor Cicero is stuck. Can't you see? I was transporting my dear, sweet mother. Well, not her. Her corpse! She's quite dead. I'm taking mother to a new home. A new crypt. But... aggh! Wagon wheel! Damnedest wagon wheel! It broke! Don't you see?" He gestures wildly, the woman smiles and crosses her arms. She is a wood elf, with stern features, a straight nose, thin lips, scrutinizing eyes. One of which is badly scarred and white with decay. Cicero imagines she cannot see from it very well.

"... How can I help?" she says. An. opportunity, dear Cicero. Follow it. Take it! She could be nicer than she seems!

"Oh. Oh yes! Yes, the kindly stranger can certainly help! Go to the farm - the Loreius Farm. Just over there, off the road. Talk to Loreius. He has tools! He can help me! But he won't! He refuses! Convince Loreius to fix my wheel! Do that, and poor Cicero will reward you. With coin! Gleamy, shiny coin!" her eyebrow raises, and she cocks a grin, and walks leisurely to the farm down the way. There's a bit of arguing, and a silence. Eventually she comes back out. She looks incredibly frustrated. She mumbles something about getting paid sufficiently for dealing with the "insolent sow".

"Done."

Cicero is overjoyed! I knew she would be nice! I knew it, I knew it! "Oh stranger! You have made Cicero so happy! So jubilant and ecstatic! But more! Even more! My mother thanks you! Here, here. For your troubles! Shiny, clinky gold! A few coins for a kind deed! And thank you! Thank you again." she shrugs, and recrosses her arms after accepting the gold. "I will wait for Loreius! Oh yes, mother and I will wait right here, right here until he fixes our wheel."

She turns and walks her way, counting the gold as she walks. "I'm certain we will be seeing each other again soon, Cicero..." For some reason, this leaves a shudder down Cicero's spine. The way she said Cicero's name... It was like she wanted... something...

"But the Night Mother is mother to all! It is her voice we follow! Her will! Would you dare risk disobedience? And surely... punishment?" a familiar voice echoed through the halls of the Sanctuary... Could it be that delicious little Jester I ran into on the road a while back? It sounded like him... Sounded much like him...

"Keep talking, little man, and we'll see who gets 'punished'." says another voice. Husky, bothersome. I know that voice well, Arnbjorn... How delightful it would be to neuter that over-grown pup.

Another voice reaches it's fingers through the sanctuary walls; "Oh, be quiet you great lumbering lap-dog. The man has had a long journey. You can at least be civil. Mister Cicero, I for one am delighted you and the Night Mother have arrived. Your presence here signals a welcome return to tradition." Festus states. I can't tell if he's sucking up, or honestly 'delighted'. My guess is he's sucking up.

"Oh, what a kind and wise wizard you are. Sure to earn our Lady's favor." I roll my eyes. Yup, it was the wagon jester. His way of speaking is very... specific. Chatty. So chatty and so... cheerful. I grimace. Loud. Obnoxious. How delightful it would be to shut him up...

"You and the Night Mother are of course welcome here, Cicero. And you will be afforded the respect deserving of your position as Keeper. Understood... husband?" Astrid says. Judging from her tone and what she said to me as I walked in, I doubt that was actually the case. The mutt grunts all the same. Cicero is exuberant to hear this. His voice makes me cringe. Loud. Pitched. Obnoxious.

"But make no mistake. I am the leader of this Sanctuary. My word is law. Are we clear on that point?" Astrid says, ever-present on her high horse. Arrogant, is she... Arrogant and foolish. She maybe leader... Not for long, though...

"Oh yes, mistress. Perfectly! You're the boss." I stifle a laugh. He sounded insincere. I'm certain she noted that...

As the group dispatches, and heads in different directions, I walk over to Cicero. I can't help but notice Veezara staring at me as I walk up to the jester. He and I had formed a slight... relationship. I would take him out and... make her polish my equipment, you could say. He enjoyed it, regardless of his whimpering. I was certain he enjoyed it. I could tell by his hurt expression every time I wouldn't take him out... Sometimes it's best to leave them hanging... Make them want more of what you're not giving them. I can feel the waves of desire and jealousy roll from him as I approached the jester. His name was Cicero... I wonder how much it takes to carve that obnoxious smile from his obnoxious Imperial face. I grin and approach him.

"Another member of the Family! Hello, hello. So very good to meet you." he turns and looks me in the face, shocked for a moment. "Wait. Oh, wait, I remember you! Oh yes! And you helped me! You helped poor Cicero! You talked to Loreius, got him to fix my wheel! Oh, you may have pleased me, but you have surely pleased the Night Mother. And our mother, she will never forget." he jumps up and down excitedly. Clapping his hands, and laughing. It takes a lot of restraint not to knock him out right then...

After he goes on about who he is, his laughter, various other things, I get on my way, and walk to the dining area. I pull a jug of mead and start drinking. Veezara wastes no time in confronting me.

"Sister, may I speak with you a moment?" he says, his eyes are on me. Burning.

"What." I say. Crossing my arms, I recline into the uncomfortable chair; "Spit it out."

"The Jester... As you approached. Do you harbor an interest in him?" He sounded cold, and light. Like a casual conversation was taking place between two members of an inconspicuous guild.  
"Maybe... He's quite lively, don't you think?" I smile, and his pupils dilate a bit. They dart from me to the source of that obnoxious laughter and mad rambling.

"Yes. He seems quite interesting... For a human, any way." He closes his eyes for a moment, I notice his jaw clench.

"I think I'll pursue him... It would be interesting to get under his skin, don't you think? It's always the broken ones... So much fun to break further..."

"Ah, yes... It's always the crazy ones..." he trails off. His eyes are darting frantically. He's pretty good at hiding things, usually. Seems he's getting a little on edge.

"I suppose I should tie up any loose ends..." I say, a meaningful gaze meets between us. He knows what I mean. He swallows dryly.

"Perhaps... One more time...? For... Old times sake..." his grip tightens. He's hurt.  
Excellent.

"No, Veezara. I don't have time to play with you any more."

"... I... Understand." He gets up. His claws are digging into his armor. His pupils are dilated, and his breathing pace, quickened. As he leaves the sanctuary, he mutters something about "going out for a swim."

I finish off the mead, and head to finish some of these contracts. I have much to do, and a lot of plans to make, if I intend to make this hunt any fun...


	2. His agony is beautiful

**I am hoping I can get away from rehashing quests Cicero is involved in, now. Jeez**.

"What? What treachery! Defiler! Debaser and defiler! You have violated the sanctity of the Night Mother's tomb! Explain yourself! Speak, worm!"... must admit. He's pretty cute when he gets riled up, like this. I smile and lean in the coffin, at which he rages all the more.  
"The night mother spoke to me." It's a simple phrase, but it nearly sends him off the edge. His eyes light with a raging fire.  
She... spoke to you? More treachery! More trickery and deceit! You lie! The Night Mother speaks only to the Listener! And there is... no... Listener!" he sounds like a child that just got his hopes and dreams crushed. It makes me happy.  
"... Darkness Rises when Silence Dies..." I say. His eyes grow wide with shock.  
"She... she said that? She said those words... to you? 'Darkness rises when silence dies'? But those are the words. The Binding Words. Written in the Keeping Tomes. The signal so I would know. Mother's only way of talking to sweet Cicero..." he stops for a moment, and all color leaves his face. I grin a bit, until he starts dancing. Again. I hate Jesters... "Then... it is true! She is back! Our Lady is back! She has chosen a Listener! She has chosen you! Ha ha ha! All hail the Listener!"  
I start raising a hand to object to his insipid dancing, when Astrid slams through the door. By Sithis, this ends now! Back away, fool! Whatever you've been planning is over! Are you all right? I heard the commotion. Who was Cicero talking to? Where's the accomplice? Reveal yourself, traitor!"  
"I spoke only to the Night Mother! I spoke to the Night Mother, but she didn't speak to me. Oh no. She spoke only to her! To the Listener!" Cicero says, excitedly. I hold my face in my hand.  
"What? The Listener? What are you going on about? What is this lunacy?" Astrid looks annoyed, as she should be. I'm in a position of power, after all. It's a shame she's married...  
It's true, it's true! The Night Mother has spoken!..." Cicero goes on. I start tuning him out instinctively.  
Astrid asks what happened, and I tell her of a contract that needs to be carried out, and that I must speak with Amaund Motierre. She says she needs tome to think. Of course she would need time to think. It would only make sense. Everything she worked to protect and control is crumbling, slowly. Her foundation is falling, and it is glorious to watch her composure crack.  
After this occasion, I spoke with Cicero, who then told me all the ups and downs of being the Listener, and told me that he, himself wanted to be the listener. "Oh... Well... yes. I did. I did indeed. I tried to listen. Tried so hard. But the Night Mother never spoke to poor Cicero. The silence became almost... maddening. Oh, but that was then! This is now! You're the Listener, and the Night Mother chose you for a reason, I'm sure! Cicero will remain the happy Keeper." I resist the urge to make my move just then. So delicate. Like a lamb just waiting for the slaughter... It would be so easy to get under his skin at this moment... It would be so easy to taste his innocent parts... But I need to wait. I have to get him alone. It's easier that way. It's much easier that way...  
After killing a few faceless sheep pointed out to me by Nigel, I return home to find Gabriella waiting for me inside the Sanctuary, Veezara collapsed on the floor, bleeding, the others collected around him.  
"What did you do this time, Veezara?" I say, I wait for him to answer, and all the others decide to answer for him. Apparently Cicero snapped, and decided to go on a little rampage... How... Delicious. He wounded Veezara and called Astrid a pretender, and made his way out. It seems Arnbjorn chased him out as well. Headstrong pup.  
As to be expected, Astrid orders me to go off and kill the clown. I accept and head off.  
When I finally arrive at the Dawnstar Sanctuary, I find Arnbjorn wounded and bleeding on the ground. Struggling to cling to what little life he has left. I'm tempted to let him die, there. I head into the Sanctuary.  
As I expected, Cicero had a lot of traps set up. The place was practically riddled with traps. It was pretty annoying, at first, but I got through them quickly, as any good assassin would. Then there was the troll. I fucking hate trolls. Have I ever gone into how much I hate trolls? No? I fucking hate trolls. They smell like shit, and are about as smart as a wriggling newborn. Hell, they can barely live up to that. Not only that, but they're sturdy. Takes a lot of patience that I don't have to kill one of these cunt-jams. After I dispatch the troll and pick out his skull as a trophy, I head off to see Cicero. More traps. More illusions, and finally I find him laying on the floor. He looks pathetic.  
"You caught me! I surrender! Ha ha ha ha."  
I sit there, quietly. He simply lays there on the ground. After a long, hard pause, he speaks. "Do what you will. Cicero has no fight left. In the end, Sithis will judge us both.". A chill of pure delight traces up my spine. I have to keep myself from shivering, and laughing. I instead reach a tentative finger to his face, and trace it gently across his cheekbones. "Dear Cicero... There is only one cure for your madness..." his eyes roll up to look at me, and there is no mirth. There is no laughter, or dancing or vapid rhymes. No, in these eyes there is pain. Pain and tiredness, and most of all, a desperation. Yes... This was indeed, perfect. A more perfect setting could not have been planned. "What would that be..." his tired voice echos through the caverns. I can hear the effort he has to put behind this act, and it delights me.  
"... Me, Cicero."  
"Then don't kill Cicero." he says. I stare down at him. Hard. What he's suggesting was my idea all along, so I'm not surprised. But you have to know how to reel in your prey. "...Let Cicero live... Tell her you did the job, and let poor Cicero off..." he sputters. I smile down at him lightly. A golden glow radiates from my hands. I place a soft hand on his forehead, and slowly glide down the meat of his neck. The broad of his chest is hard and solid under my hands... His stomach mends as my fingers trace along the wound. He groans. "Shut up. This will only take a moment."  
"...Thank you, Listener."  
I smile. Don't thank me just yet, Jester.


	3. Mother wants us to get along

**I am now derailing the story. I am in control from here, folks. Hahahahahaha!  
Sorry for making you relive all the Cicero adventures.  
I'll try to not do that again.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or setting of this fanfiction.  
**

* * *

His agony was beautiful. His hoarse, labored breaths were intoxicating. His crippled frame, curled up on the floor... It was delightful. It sent pleasurable shivers up and down my spine. It sent me to oblivion, and I was hooked. That look of Agony. That desperation... I couldn't stay away. I sat there, while his wound was healing. He wretched in pain. Groaned and moaned and writhed. I stayed there. I watched him sleep. He whimpered, and pouted and sometimes he would scream. A short scream, but a scream, none the less. Before he would go to sleep, I would tell him a joke. Something gory, I think. He would laugh, which would add pressure to his wound. Which would cause him to writhe, which would cause him to laugh more. This repeated for a while. I never liked this mans laughter so much. Eventually, it would be best to head back to Astrid. But, I doubt she would be completely unsuspecting after I disappear for several days. Though I would be returning covered in blood... I am not sure how gullible she is.  
"Dear Cicero... Wake up, Cicero..." I coo into his ear. A smile traces his lips for a moment. It's sickening. I hate that smile. "Wake up." I say, finally. He gets up and I cross my arms; "I have to leave soon, Cicero." he's quiet. "I should tell Astrid that I killed you. However, I need to make it convincing." I pull out a knife. "Remove your clothing, Cicero."  
"Listener! Are you certain of this? Cicero can do something else. Kill a wolf, perhaps? Slaughter a horse, maybe? Come, come let's slaughter a horse!" he's giddy. Again.  
"I'm certain. Lay on your stomach. If I used any other blood, Arnbjorn would pick up the scent. He knows your scent by now, don't you think? I need fresh blood."  
"Listener is this... really necessary? Did poor Cicero really have to strip down to such a small amount of clothing?" I appraise him.  
"...Yes."  
"Listener! Why do I have to be so bare?"  
"Because your listener said so... Dear Cicero..." I say, leaning in close. "You wouldn't want to disappoint your Listener... Would you..? Mother would be so angry... I'm sure she wants nothing more..." I place a hand on his upper thigh... ghosting upward to his hips, I feel him quiver. "...Than for us to get along well... Wouldn't you agree..?"  
He starts giggling slightly, and it turns into full out laughter. "Hahahahaha! You're right, of course. Mother would want us to get along! Ah, thank you listener. Cicero understands now."  
"Good. Now, Lay on your stomach. This might hurt."  
"How much will this hurt poor Cicero?"  
"...A lot."  
"Goooooooood."  
I smile, as I plunge the ebony knife into dear Cicero's leg.  
His screams  
they intoxicate me.


	4. Slippery, at best

Hello, readers. If I have any, I dunno. What do I know? Nothing, ha ha ha. Anyway, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've come to a writers block. Which might explain if this is a bit low-quality stuff. I dunno. I tried t do a good, long update for you. :D But, I dunno. I might come back to it, later. Anyway, I wanted to thank all those that watched the story, and reviewed. Thank you so much to **_UltraMarine756_**, and to the three people who took the time to favorite this story. It means a lot. :D Enough with the sappy intro, get it over with! I get you, I get you. Sheesh...

* * *

Once I returned to the Sanctuary, Astrid was waiting for me, I'd told her that I'd killed the jester, and she accepted it easy enough. I took a few contracts after that. Simple things. Just enough to buy a new weapon, and some potions to go looking for better things to do. Eventually, though, I got bored, and went back to the Dawnstar sanctuary.

"Keeper..?" I call through the icy sanctuary, looking around for the scum. "Cicero, come out. Now." I demand. Still, nothing. I begin storming the halls, looking for him. He's nowhere to be found. I inadvertently fall into a rage. My pace quickens, and my fists are balled. "Cicero, you bastard. Come out, now!" I scream into the icy sanctuary. It echos back to me. A taunt. Just like his taunting. In the back of my mind, I can hear him... laughing. "Agh! You slimy worm!" I'm making my way back to the exit, I catch myself laughing. "I'll get you, dear Cicero. Don't you worry. If it's a game you want, it is a game you shall receive." I'm sure it will be glorious. With Cicero, well... Such prey deserves a magnificent chase, I think.

I return again to the Sanctuary, and am told Festus would like to speak to me. I scoff. This should be interesting. Festus has never provided a dull conversation, what with his knowledge of magic, and things. I find him sitting at the dining table, drinking mead, and reading a book on destruction magic. I always appreciated his love for destruction magic. Really, there's not a single class of magic more useful than destruction... My opinion, anyway. He looks up from his book and scowls. He never really liked me, or anyone else in the sanctuary. Which is perfectly fine by me. I can admire the old croon, maybe even respect him, but it doesn't mean I would want him to like me, at all.  
"I was told to speak to you." I mumble, crossing my arms. He tells me that there's a job I need to do, and it involves disguising myself as a gourmet chef. Disguises never really tickled my fancy, but that's just fine. Apparently, the chef's face is only known by a select few. But the croon has a book signed by the Gourmet. That's what the chef calls himself. The gourmet. I look forward to killing the cocky bastard. Which works out, I suppose. I end up having to find a man named Virane. Due immediately. I guess this will work to pass the boredom. Until Cicero decides to show up, again, or until I can hunt him down. Either works for me.

I'm told that Virane will be at the kitchen of Markarth. A lovely place. Filled with blood and stone and treachery. I heard through rumor that the forsworn could be involved. I chuckle to myself. How could a band of hagraven thumping, tree shitting imbeciles be involved in such a wide-scale scheme? Honestly. Humans.  
I will never pretend to understand their primitive, stupid ways.

As I am musing on this, I can't help but go back to the dawnstar sanctuary incident. The few days I spent getting acquainted with Cicero's screams and writhes. How delightful it was to lap up the blood on his back, and manipulate him in his sleep, making him squirm, and cry. Teasing that wound of his, to make him hurt more. Grunting as it tightened in his chest, yes... It was beautiful. It was beautiful, indeed. He was so willing to play my little game. But he made it a challenge, as well. Having to tell him jokes nearly discouraged me. Cooing to him in his sleep was vile. But it made him squirm, a bit. He would sometimes cry. Begging the night mother to make him listener. It was so... tender, almost. Disgustingly so. It made me want to destroy him, as best I could. Slice his skin apart. Taste his blood. Scratch him. Punch him. Burn him, freeze him, I didn't care. As long as he hurt. As long as that smile, that wretched smile was taken from his jeering face... As long as I wiped it away, even for a moment. Any small moment of his agony was my true elation.

As I mused on this, I finally reached Markarth, and pulled my sore body from the horse I was renting. Markarth was a ways away from Falkreath, and it was midday by the time I arrived. Not the best time to be questioning and killing people, and I was incredibly tired. I decided to rent out a room at the Silver-blood inn, and rest until dark. As my eyes slip, I hear footsteps above me. I head to the tavern, and question the bar-man. There is apparently no attic, to the building. Not over my room, which leads me to wonder; what, or who could be on the roof of the building..?

I get to the upper level, and find a window, which I can climb out of. I cast an invisibility spell, as to not draw too much attention, and climb from the window, up to the roof, with some difficulty. Nearly falling off the damn roof, and costing myself a broken ankle. Thankfully, I was able to get a grip before that happened, and pull myself up to the roof. Hopping down from the ledge, I brush myself off, and look up to find Cicero standing there. Happily stomping his feet just over where I was sleeping. The sun stings my eyes. I walk over to him as steadily as I could, and he dodges out of my grasp, just as I reach out for him.

"Oh, no, no, no, listener. I want to play a game with you!" he says, hopping from foot to foot, now. Not making so much as a thump. I quirk an eyebrow.

"Game?" I inquire, "what kind of game could this be, Keeper?"

He walks up to me, grinning from ear to ear, and pushes me back a bit, ducking out of my grasp just as I grab for him. "Tag!" he says, as he skips from the roof of the building, and crawls into a window.

I begin laughing. I fucking hate this jester.

**(AN)I don't own. What do I own? Nothing. Ha ha ha.**


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